After the Big Bang
by Erisah Mae
Summary: Vegeta sacrificed himself to save the world, but Bulma decided she was tired of his attitude and dumped him. Depressed, he tells his troubles to a random earthling, Oz.
1. Chapter 1: A Bad Day

Disclaimer: I own nothing recognisable in this fic, be it from Dragon Ball Z or Whedonverse.

_A/N: This is AU after Vegeta sacrifices himself against Maijin Buu. After Vegeta blew himself and Buu to kingdom come, that was it for that saga (Vegeta's sacrifice worked, Buu was dead dead dead with no regrowing pink things), and then he was brought back to life along with everyone else with the Shen-Long wish. The events of this story are set about a month after those events. Just go with it for me, k?_

_In terms of the Buffyverse, this is set after the TV series, but without really taking the comics as more than the vaguest guideline. Since the sinkage of Sunnydale, and after the death of Spike, Buffy has decided to go on a slaying sabbatical, and has been travelling around the world looking for baby slayers and badthings to thump. Xander and Faith are doing similar things in Africa and the US respectively. Willow decided to go to university abroad (Brazil for all you diehards out there), Giles is in England creating the new watcher's council._ _Oz has meanwhile been chilling out with the Buddhist monks in Tibet, because they showed him how to make peace with his inner wolf, and thus start to maintain control._

_The moon got blown up by Piccolo, and the Saiyans felt a mysterious burst of energy just before seemingly hundreds of teenage girls started showing up in martial arts contests and kicking the tar out of men three times their size._

_Okay, everyone caught up?_

_On with the story then._

Chapter 1: A Bad Day

Vegeta was having a bad day.

It was not the worst day he had ever had- being orphaned and losing almost the entirety of his race, and his planet effectively trumped pretty much any other shit that fate could throw at him.

Watching his his future son be killed by Super Perfect Cell, before being defeated himself and saved by the son of his rival was a close second.

The time that Frieza killed him, only for him to wake up alive and on a backwater planet surrounded by Namekians, having been resurrected by his enemy who had also managed to defeat Frieza was probably third.

The day he realised that no matter what he did, he was never going to beat that brain-damaged Third Class Kakarrot in a fair fight came close after that on the list of damned awful days he had had.

Then came the years that he had lived under Frieza's command. In order to survive, the arrogant child he had been had become nothing more than a savage attack dog, leashed and collared until the next time that Frieza wished to engage in a little genocide. To call those mere "bad" days would require the scope of the word "bad" to be stretched far beyond the understanding of most of the humans who lived on his current planet of residence, Earth.

So truthfully, Vegeta told himself firmly, this day did not even make it into the top fifty of the worst days of his life, let alone the top 100. He had survived those, so he should be able to survive anything.

Standing arms folded on a rock in the remotest mountains he could find on short notice, (a voice that sounded suspiciously like Trunks' reminded him that they were the Himalayas, but honestly, Vegeta could give less of a shit about what humans named their geography,) Vegeta brooded.

Bulma had kicked him out.

Well. That wasn't entirely accurate. No human woman could force the Prince of the Saiyans to leave anywhere where he wished to stay. But she had organised things so that if he had made such a decision, he would be living on her begrudging charity like some sort of pathetic unwanted pet. She had, damn her, relied on his pride to make him leave. There had been times when she had used it against him that had caused him to feel some grudging, (affectionate, his innermost weakness admitted) respect for her.

But this was unforgivable.

She had called Kakarot over to "make sure that Vegeta didn't do anything he might want to take back later". Ridiculous. Vegeta never regretted anything. Considering the atrocities (yes, he knew that they were atrocities, he could hardly consider the deaths of entire races and destruction of planets that he had participated in to be completely unlike those that had been committed against his own,) that he had committed in the past, there lay madness. Anything he ever did, he did because of the situation that he was in and the information that he knew. Even if his actions had been impulsive, (such as killing Nappa,) they were never ill-considered. If things later turned out not for the best, then it was a what if, and Vegeta had long ago stopped letting himself think about those.

Hypothetical circumstances of things about to happen, yes. It was important for a warrior to know tactics and strategy, and to paraphrase a certain clever Earthling, a well-informed, well-prepared warrior could win a battle before it had even been fought.

(Yes, Vegeta had read Sun Tsu. Trunks had given the slim volume to Vegeta as a father's day gift when Trunks had only been 5, otherwise he might never have bothered, but with a title like "the Art of War", Vegeta had read it first with mild, if vaguely doubtful interest, before realising that Sun Tsu had nicely summarised a great deal of what Vegeta had learned through experience, and at times reminded Vegeta of one of his instructors before the destruction of Vegetasei. To this day it was one of the few possessions that Vegeta kept in part for its sentimental value, because to him it was proof that his son at least understood him. It was also one of his few concessions that perhaps not everything produced by Earthlings was pathetic.)

Hypotheticals of things past however? No.

What inviting Kakarot meant though, was that Bulma had requested for the man that Vegeta considered his greatest rival to witness one of Vegeta's greatest embarrassments. It was an action that Vegeta knew he would never forgive his now ex-wife for, as it had effectively rubbed salt and vinegar into an unexpected wound.

The reason for Bulma's decision was the part that really burned though.

Apparently, she didn't think that Vegeta "treated her right". So, she had started seeing that pathetic loser Yamcha behind his back.

Hadn't treated her right. So having a son together, training hard and trying to become the most powerful warrior in order to protect his family didn't count as "treating her right". Being devotedly loyal, and putting up with her constantly changing whims, strange priorities, and outright insults to his dignity was apparently not "treating her right".

So he had been "rude" to her in the past. So what? She was just as rude to him. HFIL, she called him a "jerk" all the time. It was normal for Saiyan mates to fight. Fighting was what Saiyans specialised in as a species after all. His own mother and father had sometimes fought each other so much that the servants had a weekly betting pool concerning numbers, reasons, locations and insults.

So there had been that time that Dr. Gero had tried to kill Bulma and Trunks, and he had done nothing. Had said that he had "more important things to worry about than _that foolish woman_ and her _blasted child_". He hated that she didn't understand the context in which he had said that. At the time when he had said that to Mirai Trunks, it had been only partly out of spite. He was furious that the Namekian and Kakarrot had both found out that Mirai Trunks was actually his son before he had, and telling him that he had trusted him to want to save his mother and past self seemed too much like stating the obvious. Besides, admitting weakness like that would have been against every Saiyan instinct that he had. No true Saiyan spoke admitted regard for (or even the existence of) their family in the field of battle. It was only asking for them to become targets. The fact that his future son didn't understand this and had demanded Vegeta explain himself in public had been a rude shock, and he had blurted out an instinctual response before he could reconsider it.

But despite Bulma's ranting, the "friction" in their relationship wasn't all his fault.

What, Vegeta wanted to know, was "right" about _her_ going to another man, (especially one who was so weak, so pathetic, he had been killed by a _Saibaman_ for the love of Vegetasei!) for comfort? What was right about the constant jibes she had made against his honour and dignity? What was right about her trying to distract Trunks from his training? What was right about inviting Kakarot to witness his shame?

Vegeta resisted the urge to crush the mountain beneath his fist. This was one of his favourite places on Earth. It was quiet, unpolluted, and refreshingly free from humans, apart from the very rare climber who came up this way. If he strained his ears, he could hear the chanting from the Buddhist monastery a good day and a half's travel as the human climbed below. It would not do to make this bad day worse by removing one of his few sanctuaries in a fit of pique.

Since he was alone, he sighed.

At least she had not been able to turn his son against him, despite her best attempts, although apparently, she was going to get her lawyers to deny him "custody". Bulma had told him that she thought he was a danger to her, and a danger to her son.

Ridiculous. He had never laid so much as a finger on her in anger the entire time they had been together. The only times he had ever hit Trunks had been in training, and considering how good he was getting, (and the fact that Kakarot's brats went through similar treatment, _so there_ Bulma, and at least Vegeta had always been around whilst Trunks had been growing up,) it had never hurt him.

Sure, he hadn't hugged Trunks until he was eight, but then Vegeta wasn't demonstrative like a human...

Oh.

Suddenly, it made sense.

Vegeta slumped. So that was it. Bulma hadn't come right out and said it, but now that he had had the chance to stop and think, it was obvious. There were only two things that Yamcha could give Bulma that Vegeta couldn't give to her. Though Vegeta might be able to snark that the first was cringing obedience, the second was that...

Vegeta gritted his teeth.

The second was that Yamcha, being a soft Earthling who hadn't been mostly raised by warriors and conquerors as a prince, then a slave and attack dog, was comfortable with being affectionate with his loved ones. Even as a free prince, Vegeta's father had told him that showing affection was showing your enemy where to strike you first.

But here on Earth, where babies were born rather than decanted, (and that right there had been a startling thing to discover,) and there were sayings such as "don't get between a mother and her young", "friendship first" and "I don't care how poor a man is; if he has family, he's rich"... these were _sentiments_ that weren't completely alien to Vegeta, but expressing them so bluntly, so forwardly, and so freely, was.

It had only been in more recent years that he had managed to feel like maybe, just maybe, he could humour his son and wife with a few moments of affection, but most of these had been very much in private, and Bulma had always acted startled, before frowning and telling him that he didn't need to butter her up if he wanted something.

That hadn't exactly encouraged him in his fumbling attempts.

He had thought Bulma understood. She had known what he was like, and had told him she loved him. Even though he had admitted to her that he was a killer, who in the bad old days had thought nothing of destroying an entire race before lunch, and pillaging all that they had before dinner, when Frieza would often blow their planet into so much space dust.

Now almost a decade later, just after this latest fiasco with the Buus had died down it seemed that she had changed her mind. Maybe it was the fact that even though the wish to Shen-Long had revived all the people in the crowd that Vegeta had killed when under the influence of Babidi, this did not change the fact that Vegeta had been the one to kill them. Apparently being under the influence of magic was no excuse. Vegeta had been shocked when Kakarot had wanted to talk to him about things that he had said whilst under the influence. It had taken all of Vegeta's might to force himself to focus on defeating Kakarot instead of killing the brats, and it was only after defeating Kakarot that he had been able to claw together the willpower to seize back control and fight Maijin Buu.

And when even his best efforts had not been enough, and his son had had to save him from Buu's grasp, Vegeta had realised what he would have to do.

Knowing he was about to die, he felt no qualms about hugging his son. Where he was about to go, no one could kill his family to get to him.

And so Vegeta had used the Final Destruction technique, and blown himself and Buu to smithereens.

He had done it for his family. And, he had to admit, because he owed Kakarot. But mostly, he had done it for Trunks and Bulma.

And this was the thanks he got.

"You seem angry, friend."

Vegeta whirled around, to see a short red-haired man standing calmly a few paces away from him. Internally he was shocked. Had he been so deep in his musings that he had not noticed some clod-footed tourist climbing up the mountain?

Instead of answering the man, Vegeta merely glared at him.

To his surprise, the man seemed completely unfazed. He simply walked over to a nearby rock and leaned against it, watching Vegeta, apparently waiting for him to make the next move.

"Go away, human. I'm not in the mood, and crushing you into dust would take me less effort than you squashing a mosquito," Vegeta growled.

To his surprise, the man merely nodded. "Technically not a human, but since it's not a full moon, and hell, it's pretty unlikely to ever be a full moon again, unless I'm particularly ticked off, then close enough."

Despite himself, Vegeta had to admit he was somewhat intrigued by that comment.

"Why do you say that?" he demanded. "Did you used to transform on the full moon too?"

He had asked the question mostly in jest, but the red-haired man's eyes widened slightly.

"You're a werewolf?" the man asked.

Vegeta frowned. "I do not know this term 'werewolf' but before my tail was cut off, on the full moon I would become what you humans would describe as a Great Ape." Vegeta scowled darkly. "Not any more."

The human raised an eyebrow. "You've been cured of your transformations but you miss them?"

Vegeta snorted derisively. "Does being maimed by having one's tail amputated so that one cannot access a part of their natural state mean being 'cured' in your language?"

The human was silent for a moment, obviously contemplating Vegeta's response. "So you were always able to transform before the... amputation?"

"Yes." Vegeta wondered why he was even bothering to answer this impertinent human's questions, but then remembered something.

"You asked if I used to transform on the full moon 'too'. I take it then that you are a ...werewolf?"

The man winced.

"Depends on what day it is. Used to be a monthly thing, but then one day I wake up and there's no moon, and I don't mean the Deathstar was there instead. So now it's just whenever I'm sufficiently pissed off. I do my best to stay in control of it. Most days meditation is enough to subdue the Wolf."

Vegeta sighed. "For a moment there I almost hoped you were yet another half-Saiyan. Who would have thought that Earth females could bear our brats?"

"Huh." The human seemed to consider this. "So I take it you're not from around here originally?"

Vegeta chuckled darkly. "I am Vegeta, Prince of All Saiyans, Rightful Ruler of Planet Vegetasei," he said, sitting up straight-backed and head held high, but with a bitter self-mockery to his words. He sobered. "And of course, Vegetasei was destroyed almost two decades ago. As far as I know, there is only one other pure Saiyan left. The rest are his two brats and my one, and all of them are half-human. None of them have tails any more, not that it matters, with the moon gone and the only artificial moon I had lost." Vegeta hung his head. "I sacrificed myself to save _humanity_, giving up my life to kill a being that would have destroyed everyone I..." Even now Vegeta couldn't bring himself to say the words "everyone I love" to a perfect stranger. He forced himself to continue. "Everyone _under my protection_, but that apparently wasn't enough. Now I have been resurrected, even my human wife has deserted me for a particularly pathetic human, having called on my only rightful subject to bear witness and to restrain me if necessary, because of course he is more powerful a warrior than I could ever be." He attempted a self-deprecating smirk, but it only served to make him look more miserable.

"I do believe that in the words of humans, I have officially hit rock bottom."

There was a pause, as the red-haired human seemed to consider his words.

"Bummer dude."

…...

_A/N: Should I continue? If I do, this will eventually be Buffy/Vegeta, because I can't help but think there would be a mutual respect there. Also, Buffy has always chased bad boys, and Vegeta is pretty much the Ultimate Bad Boy when you think about it. Let me know what you think._


	2. Chapter 2: No Moon Rising

Disclaimer: I don't own a dang thing recognisable here. Please support the official franchises.

Chapter 2: No Moon Rising

"Bummer dude," the self-admitted werewolf said.

Vegeta nearly gawked at him, but instead, (fortunately for his ego,) broke into startled laughter.

"An apt summary, Werewolf," he said finally.

The werewolf shrugged. "Seems to be one of my talents, keeping things in perspective."

"Oh?" Vegeta sneered. "And what great troubles have you encountered that required this 'perspective'?"

The werewolf cocked his head and seemed to consider Vegeta, before he evidently decided to take him at his word instead of reacting to the sneer. "Oh, the usual boring sob-story. Miss half my final year, including examinations, because my parents were too busy travelling to Wichita to join a cult to look after my four-year old sister. Couldn't afford a babysitter, so there was me at home watching Sesame Street and playing guitar when my peers were all getting writer's cramp. Have to do the final year of highschool over because of that, which was a right pain in my ass, let me tell you. Still, I joined a band, and that wasn't so bad. Then my cousin Jordy bites me on the finger while we're wrassling, and the next thing I know, three days a month I'm getting black-outs in my memory banks and howling at the moon. Waking up in the middle of the woods with no clothes on is no joke, let me tell you.

"And now, I've been effectively innoculated against Sunnydale Syndrome. Believe you me, in Sunnydale, ignorance was not only bliss, it was the status quo. But getting fuzzy every month does a lot to make one unable to ignore the vampires and demons coming out after dark, and the ridiculously high mortality rates.

"But then I meet this girl, and she's kinda awesome. Long red hair, skin like porcelain, figure like wow, crazy smart, and kinda cute. We go out for a while, and she's even not too fussed about the wolf-thing. She even stays up a couple of nights keeping fuzzy-me company, albeit from the other side of a cage door, armed with a trank-gun. Still, I thought it was kinda sweet.

"But then the wolf fucks it up for me. I wake up one morning after a full-moon in the arms of this chick who's embraced the wolf. Total babe, but if I'd had even a bit of control during that point in the month, I would never have gone there with that bitch. Rule one, my alien friend, is that you never put your dick in crazy."

Vegeta snorted ruefully. "Good rule."

The werewolf half-smiled. "Words to live by. Unfortunately, with a bit of pheromones flowing, my fuzzy half wasn't exactly thinking with the head-brain, so I had sex with her. Twice. The second time, my girlfriend, who meanwhile had been training to become a witch, found out, and was pretty pissed. Fortunately she liked me too well to actually curse me, but it was a close thing. Then the bitch decides that she wants to kill my witch. Even my wolf-half isn't down with that, so I rip her throat out with my teeth."

The werewolf glanced at Vegeta when he said that, but Vegeta was unmoved. He'd seen, and committed worse. Besides, at least bleeding out from the carotid artery was a quick death.

The werewolf continued. "But, this freaks the shit out of my girlfriend, and she's still upset about the whole boning a chick that isn't her thing, even though I wasn't exactly in full control of my actions at the time. And let me remind you, witch. Oh, and friends with a Slayer, who's a nice enough girl so long as you're human and/or don't fuck with her friends. Having inadvertently ended up in both categories, and wanting to do something to get some control over my wolf-half before something like this, or worse, happens again, I decide to go travelling, to see if I can find a cure. I end up in the monastery down the mountain," the werewolf nodded in the direction that Vegeta had heard the chanting coming from, and I get not a cure, but a treatment plan. With herbs, meditation and a special amulet or three, within a few months, I can control the wolf so that it's me, and not the moon that decides when I get fuzzy, and what I do in that state."

At this point, Vegeta felt some grudging respect. Training to promote self-awareness and self-control in the Ape state had often taken years for even first class Saiyans to achieve. Some never bothered to even learn it, considering it to be a waste of time, but Vegeta himself had worked tirelessly to achieve the self-discipline necessary to keep his mind during the transformation. It had taken him a lot longer than a few months. This werewolf thing was obviously not the Ape transformation, but nonetheless he could see enough similarities to feel a little impressed.

The werewolf sighed a little then. "The ironic part is that if I hadn't done that, when that crazy whoever-it-was blew the moon up a couple of years back, the curse would have gone almost completely dormant. Ah well. Such is life." The werewolf smirked. "Though they better hope that no witch or demon figures out that it was them. They fucked up a _lot_ of rituals that depended on the phase of the moon with that move. Willow is _still_ bemoaning it."

Vegeta did his best to hide a delighted, vicious grin. Oh, this was gold. He contemplated letting Piccolo know that he had managed to upset more than Greenpeace and every coastal nation and business that depended on the tides with his over-dramatic reaction to Gohan's Ape transformation, and then decided against it. It would be far more hilarious if the sarcastic green slug was caught by surprise. Preferably by a coven of witches. Space was a big place, and Vegeta had run into more magic users than Maijin Buu. It didn't matter what species or race they were, witches on a revenge kick were _nasty_, even by his standards.

"So anyway, I get a modicum of control," the werewolf continued, "and I think, well, my girlfriend has obviously been missing me, so I'll go back to Sunnyhell, and see if I can't patch things up with her." The werewolf grimaced. "And she had been missing me. Apparently she pined for months. Then she got caught on the rebound by one of her wicca friends, and the next thing I know, I'm smelling another woman on her, and she's telling me that she's actually a lesbian."

"Ouch," Vegeta smirked. "Was the other woman manlier than you?"

The werewolf made a derisive noise. "Hardly. Objectively, Tara was gorgeous. Long blonde hair, soft, pouty lips, and these great big soft eyes that seemed to look straight into your soul. Nice body, too, though she tried to cover it up with all these ankle-long skirts. From what I hear, she was actually a really nice girl. She didn't really know about me, and from what I gather, Willow had given up on me ever coming back anyway, so as far as Tara was concerned, it technically wasn't cheating. In my rational mind, when I'm being fair, with the benefit of hindsight and time, I can see that Willow had good taste. Subjectively," his lip curled a little, "Tara seduced my woman, and the wolf couldn't deal with that. Hell, I couldn't deal with that. As much as I'd worked on control, I'd done it at least partly for Willow. Finding out that she'd decided I wasn't coming back, and had moved on was a bit more than I could handle. So I went wolf, and attacked Tara. But then the Slayer's latest flame and a squad of his army bully-boys decided to capture me for scientific experiments, so they jump me while I'm distracted. So next thing I know, I'm in this underground lab being tortured because of the wolf."

Vegeta grimaced. There had been a few times that Frieza had felt the need to conduct experiments on the Saiyan physiology, generally in attempts to discover new and horrific ways to cause pain and to keep him and his few subjects under control.

"Fortunately, the Slayer and the Scooby Squad decide that they wouldn't wish that fate on one of their worse enemies, let alone a friend, so they busted me out of there. It was a close thing though. I found out later I avoided being shot dead and dissected by the skin of my teeth, and because the Slayer's flame had a last-second change of heart as to my status as human." The werewolf smirked. "Either that or he realised that there was a very serious likelihood that the Slayer would rip his balls off and feed them to him if I had died because of him. A light maiming he could escape with some heavy grovelling, but even if I wasn't in her good books for 'abandoning' Willow, the Slayer didn't want me dead. Frankly, that should have been obvious even to Army-boy, because the Slayer has this habit of making sure that any being that threatens hers is dust or decomposing."

Vegeta raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Wait, so this Slayer is a woman?"

The werewolf smirked. "Tiny blonde thing, only a bit shorter than me." Vegeta snorted. "Oh like without the hair you have to duck in doorways," the werewolf retorted. "Anyway, her kill count has to be at least in the tens of thousands by now, and she could happily bench-press an SUV. Never got the full story on it, but apparently it's some destiny mojo that gave a random candidate the strength of a demon. 'One girl in all the world' supposed to fight the powers of darkness, at least before my ex decided to tweak the spell to stop an apocalypse, so now demon-empowered teenaged girls are a dime a dozen."

"Huh," said Vegeta, brow creasing even more than usual. "I did notice a significant rise in young females in your species joining in and doing well in martial arts competitions. I thought it was due to some change in culture showing effects across a generation, some new-wave feminism movement."

The werewolf shrugged. If he was surprised that an obvious warrior like Vegeta knew anything about sociology or gender studies, he didn't show it. "Chicken and egg," he said, "but this time with a bit of help from super-nature first. But Buffy is still the original and best. According to what Council records we managed to dig out of the ruins, most Slayers lasted less than a year before being killed in action. Those that weren't were generally killed by the Cruciamentum, a little tradition that the Council organised as an 18th birthday present for the Slayer, which involved putting a generally unarmed, depowered Slayer in an enclosed space with a vampire and seeing who came out on top. Buffy has directly worked to prevent at least one apocalypse a year since she became a Slayer, and has been doing it for almost fifteen years now. Hell, she died in the line of duty twice, and each time she was brought back to keep on fighting, the second time dragged straight from Heaven." The werewolf grimaced. "I'm not sure she's ever entirely forgiven my ex for that one."

Vegeta was definitely interested now. This Buffy woman sounded like quite the powerful warrior.

For a human.

He wondered why he had never heard of her before.

"So you're an alien, huh," Vegeta realised the werewolf was still talking to him. "Can't say I've ever met one of those before."

Vegeta smirked. "And I cannot say I ever met a werewolf before. A few demons, but that was only in HFIL."

The red-haired werewolf shrugged, and offered a hand. "Friends call me Oz," he said.

Vegeta frowned a little at the outstretched hand. "You would shake the hand of a murderer of uncounted innocents?"

Oz looked Vegeta seriously in the eye. "Did you enjoy it?"

Vegeta growled. "As much as I enjoy fighting, I like a challenge. There was no honour in killing for Frieza, and I received no profit."

"So you're not proud of it?" Oz insisted.

"Of course not! Imbecile! I may be a monster, but even I can find no pride in killing weaklings."

Oz left his hand stubbornly out. "You're not the first monster that I've fought beside, and you've actually got one up on that guy, because he had to get cursed with a soul before he felt regret, and from what I hear he spent a century or so eating rats and crying in a corner before the Powers That Be decided to push him into a redemption kick. Besides, you totally bitched to me about your woman-troubles and then listened to mine. That's totally grounds for a friendship." Oz grinned. "That, and this is _my_ brooding and meditation spot. I'd be more than happy to share it though, with a friend."

Vegeta stared at the werewolf for a few moments, but then with a great show of reluctance took his hand and shook it the human way, taking care not to crush his puny hand-bones. He knew that if it came down it it, he could always crush this werewolf with little effort, (although admittedly possibly more effort than it would take to crush a human like, say, Krillin, if the wolf-side came out to play,) but doing so would ruin the peaceful associations he had with this spot, and it would become less a sanctuary, and more yet another site of an unfair battle. Besides, this... Oz... had offered a sympathetic ear to Vegeta's troubles without making him feel like a weakling, and that in and of itself was rare enough that Vegeta felt no great urge to kill him.

"Call it whatever you wish, werewolf," he said. "I merely have no desire to paint this mountaintop with your blood. It would spoil the serenity."

To Vegeta's surprise, Oz merely smirked. "Call it whatever you wish, alien." He looked at his watch. "I have to go. Climbing down this mountain in the dark, even with the wolf helping out, is usually what most people would term suicide. That flying thing that you do though? Very cool. You should watch the sunset, since you can get out of here easy. The view from up here is pretty awesome, but at sunset, it's something else. I brought a tent up here one time to watch the sunset, and even though I nearly froze my balls off, it was totally worth it." He started to move away, and then paused. "If you ever want to talk again, just turn up here and holler. If I'm around, I'll hear you and hike up."

Vegeta sneered, but jerked his head in agreement. Oz seemed to be impervious to his sneer, as he merely inclined his head, as though Vegeta had responded politely, and wandered off down the hill.

Vegeta, despite himself, took Oz's advice, waiting only half-patiently as he watched shadows lengthen across the mountains. The view, as usual brought him some measure of peace, but if he was honest with himself, talking with the werewolf had relaxed him more than he had been since Bulma had dumped him.

An hour later, and Vegeta had to admit that the werewolf was definitely right about one thing.

Vegeta had seen and destroyed a thousand planets, and sampled many of the delights the universe had to offer.

But the golds and purples of the sunset reflecting across the snow-capped mountain peaks around him turned an already beautiful spot into a breath-taking one.

Yes, Vegeta admitted to himself. He would come back here.

Soon.

…_..._

_A/N: So yeah, decided to continue this. The five of you who reviewed should hopefully be happy, unlike the several hundred who are probably wondering why the hell I'm not working on one of my Narutoverse stories instead. Ah well. I don't write to be popular, I write because I get an idea-worm in my brain, that niggles and squirms until I feel the need to type it all out. At the moment, this worm is biting, so this is the worm that's getting extracted. As always, updates will be sporadic and occur without warning or discernible pattern. And according to my inbox, I'm one of the few posting today, so it looks like people with me on alerts are going to have the time to tell me what they think. _

_This, like my other romance, is going to be pretty slow-boil. I'm not that much of a fan of the whole love-at-first-sight trope, and I have next to no interest in writing PWP, so anyone wanting to see Vegeta and Buffy in the throes of lust are probably going to have a bit of a wait on their hands. Still, those of you looking for a drawn-out character study should probably like this._

_Tl;dr: Updated due to brain-worms. Hope you enjoyed, review if you have any thoughts._

_Ciao, Erisah_


	3. Chapter 3: Boredom Kills

Chapter 3: Boredom Kills.

After that first time where he met Oz, Vegeta found himself returning to what he silently admitted to himself was his favourite place on this accursed mud-ball (the humans had named the planet Earth, after the dirt beneath their feet - if that wasn't a sign of their lowliness Vegeta wasn't sure what else it should mean,) time and again. What had once been a pleasure he allowed himself perhaps twice a month was now a visit he made at least twice a week.

And it wasn't simply because of his new... acquaintance.

"Damnit Vegeta! You promised to pick Trunks up from school!" came the shrill voice of Bulma through the phone.

Vegeta held the handset away from his face as though it was a dead rat.

"Woman! What have I told you about Saiyan hearing!" he griped, not expecting an answer. Whilst Bulma had made a few minor concessions for their son like ensuring he had a sound-proof room to sleep in since he was a child and insisting that he not have to play sports where there was a whistle used for the umpiring since the time when he was 5 and had collapsed in a writhing heap with blood coming out his ears, for some reason it never occurred to her that as a full-blooded Saiyan, her now ex-husband had always felt these things far worse.

That annoyance aside, Vegeta didn't understand why Bulma felt that he needed to pick Trunks up from school. He could count on one hand how many fighters on Earth would be able to cause his boy trouble and still have fingers left over, and none of them were likely to even contemplate hurting his brat. Well, maybe Piccolo, but considering how he'd trained Gohan, Vegeta was given to understand that whatever damage the Namek might do to a kid whilst annoyed or impatient was something survivable.

Besides, when he hadn't showed, Trunks had just flown over to where he was anyway, because Trunks knew that if he wanted to find his father for training, all he had to do was follow Vegeta's flaring Ki signature. Vegeta had made a point to ensure that he told Trunks bluntly that he could come any time after school and would at least get a light sparring session- whilst his son offered little challenge for Vegeta, Vegeta knew that he needed to fight stronger opponents to know what to reach for. And when his son went Super Saiyan and beyond, the gap in their abilities narrowed so that it was mostly experience that kept Trunks from winning as opposed to any great difference in their strength.

But no, he was supposed to follow the script that Bulma seemed to have written for him. Again. Well, she had left him, so as far as he was concerned, her opinion of his behaviour was officially not something he was going to pander he could sink no lower in her eyes, so there was little point attempting to keep her happy. Dende knew that even when he'd tried he hadn't managed it.

Sometimes it had been because he hadn't cared. Other times... well. He tried not to think about it. It was too depressing.

Morosely hanging up on his still-squawking ex, he decided that he needed the solitude of the mountains again.

He was pleasantly surprised to see that Oz was already there, meditating as he stared with half-open eyes at the horizon.

Silently, he sat down a short distance from the werewolf, leaning listlessly against a border as he looked out over the misty mountains. He looked down and noticed that he was glowing very slightly, as his Ki automatically worked to keep him warm in the below-freezing mountain air. Oz on the other hand was clad in a green-striped woollen beanie that looked somewhat incongruous with his otherwise fairly traditional winter gear. Vegeta didn't bother calling attention to himself. He knew that the werewolf knew he was there.

Eventually, Oz spoke. "You seem frustrated."

Vegeta snorted. "You could say that," he said. He liked how Oz rarely bothered with what Bulma had always termed "polite small-talk", generally only speaking when he had something to say. This extended to not bothering to ask Vegeta what mood he was in when it was truly obvious to all and sundry. "The usual story," Vegeta confirmed what he knew Oz had probably assumed.

Oz nodded. It was generally the same things that had Vegeta in a snit. If Oz hadn't known any better (and he did, because Vegeta had informed him of the life-expectancy of a Saiyan who didn't die in battle, and suffice to say, it was quite a bit longer than that of humans,) he would have thought his new friend was having some sort of mid-life crisis. As it was, it was more that the latest phase of Vegeta's life had ended only a few months ago, and Vegeta was slowly coming to terms with this. Still, the fact that he had accepted that his relationship was done and not ever going to start again didn't mean that Vegeta didn't have the occasional homicidally black mood that mean Oz could sometimes feel him coming for miles.

"Have you tried de-stressing?" Oz asked mildly. "You look like you would happily rip someone's head off."

Vegeta picked up a small stone and crushed it into dust, almost absently. Oz's usual deadpan expression didn't waver.

"Honestly, I would welcome the diversion," Vegeta said. "But the fools I associate with would probably take exception to me committing genocide, and in truth, I have, mostly on the orders of Frieza, killed so many innocent sentients in my time that though doing more of the same would barely strain my conscience... I never really had the taste for it."

Oz had heard this story of Vegeta's past before, and so didn't visibly react. Vegeta knew that he was horrified by the whole thing, but... well actually Vegeta wasn't sure what the mitigating factor was supposed to be. Perhaps it was that Vegeta had worked to save this puny planet. Perhaps it was something else. Vegeta hadn't asked why, but Oz had not indicated that he wanted Vegeta to stop coming to their shared mountain retreat, so he hadn't. More to the point, Oz had not shown any fear towards him, not even once, and Vegeta did not get the impression that it was because he was like Bulma, and thus too self-centred and self-absorbed to consider that others might threaten her safety just because they'd killed millions upon millions of others.

No, Oz was... an enigma. A stoic enigma of few words, but one whom Vegeta had come to... trust?

That word seemed foreign in his mind, even now.

"If only..." Vegeta trailed off with a depressed sigh.

Oz just looked at him expectantly, patiently.

Vegeta acknowledged his companion's silent stubbornness with a rueful smirk. They had been talking and sitting in silence for the better part of a year now, and he had learnt that though Oz would never press him to talk, he could out-silence a rock when he wanted to wait for his companion to finish a thought. In retrospect, that first meeting they had had had involved Oz being unusually chatty.

"If only I could go out and fight something on this cursed planet that would give me a half-decent battle, and that no one would mind me killing. HFIL, I never would have thought I'd be dying for the next alien invasion to happen already," Vegeta said.

Oz raised an eyebrow, and seemed to be considering something.

Vegeta waited patiently for his response, gazing out at the view.

"You know..." Oz said slowly. "I know some people who could hook you up."

Vegeta's head snapped around.

"You joke."

Oz shook his head. "Nope. Deadly serious."

Vegeta's brows knit together. "You know some people who can start an alien invasion?"

Oz snorted with laughter. "No. I know some people who are working to hold back a _supernatural_ invasion."

For the first time in more than a year, Vegeta felt genuine interest in something.

"Tell me more."

Vampires. Demons. Things from story books that he had seen Trunks reading. They were apparently all real, and trying to invade this mudball with _his_ brat on it. They drank blood, and used magic. The former was a disgusting practice. The latter was a possible threat to himself and his brat. He hadn't forgotten how Maijin Buu's magic had worked on him, and hearing that there were others that could affect him like that had displeased him greatly.

And Oz had put him into contact with people who went out and killed these foul beings every night, and would be more than happy to enlist his help.

This was _exactly_ what he had needed.

Oz had originally offered to introduce Vegeta to friends of his, with odd names like Xander or Buffy, but Vegeta, with a significant look, had reminded Oz that he wasn't exactly a people person.

Oz had rolled his eyes, and then told Vegeta how best to track down a nest of vampires. Vegeta considered Oz's strategy of staking out a popular club, waiting until a vampire attempted to attack someone in the alley outside, and then "encouraging" it to tell him where its fellows were. He could then go and kill them all, preferably by burning down their haunt in broad daylight. Vegeta considered this strategy, and admitted that it had a certain level of efficiency to it.

But it seemed somehow... unsatisfying. All that sneaking around and tracking and waiting sounded like a long-winded way to get into a death-match. And not fighting the beings with his bare hands sounded boring.

Then Oz told Vegeta what a "Hellmouth" was, and Vegeta had a much, much better idea.

So here he was, at about midnight, local time, standing in the middle of a small island in the middle of what he was pretty sure was called the Pacific Ocean. Strange stone heads of what Vegeta could only assume were either stylised or deformed humans (although they bore some resemblance to a race called the Joograbung that he had helped Frieza subjugate several thousand light-years away) stuck out of the ground, and not a tree or other significant sign of human habitation could be seen.

Vegeta had already clamped down on his ki, so that he seemed to be just a normal human. He opened up a bag of fresh human blood that he had appropriated from a hospital, tore the top off, and drenched himself in it. Sure, he could have simply cut himself, but for all he knew, the demons might not find Saiyan blood to be as attractive as human blood. Also, bleeding from self-inflicted wounds was undignified.

Then he waited a few minutes, humming a song to himself. He didn't know the name of it, but it came from some show that Trunks had been babbling about for a while, and watching obsessively.

A few moments later, and some things that were very certainly _not_ human showed up, and with little ado, tried to eat him.

Vegeta showed them the error of their ways.

With extreme, and delighted prejudice.

Fifteen minutes later, Vegeta was covered in bluish-grey entrails, and surrounded by assorted insectoid demon parts.

More were coming, like moths to a blowtorch, to avenge their brethren, most of them shrieking in their own weird language.

Some however, had decided to use this world's lingua franca, English, to scream obscenities and curses at him.

Most of them made a rather incorrect assumption.

"Die, human!"

Vegeta started laughing. Normally he would be offended at such a slight, but right now, it amused him greatly that these puny insects thought that he was a mere human. He didn't bother correcting them. How much more embarrassing must they find the ease of their deaths at his hands. To give himself at least a little challenge, he hadn't bothered to go Super Saiyan for this. Their vicious, chitinous, blade-like limbs meant that he had to work a bit to avoid more than the occasional superficial scratch. Their sheer numbers meant that his stamina was getting a mild work out. He also made a point of not scratching the weird statues. He considered himself to have more finesse than to destroy art or holy idols or whatever the things had been.

Despite the ease he showed in destroying them, the bugs just kept running into his fists.

Vegeta hadn't enjoyed a fight like this in ages.

Eventually, they stopped coming, and all that remained was a knee-deep sludge of dismembered demon parts.

Vegeta breathed in the scent of death, and decided that perhaps he should bathe before he went back to civilisation.

He lifted up in flight, and then dove into the nearby ocean.

He scrubbed himself until only his clothes were stained, and then lay on his back and floated for a while, looking up at the millions of stars, admiring how the lack of light pollution made them stand out so much brighter in the night sky.

Vegeta grinned to himself, as he bobbed up and down in the waves.

What was it that humans did when they were grateful? Vegeta had a vague idea that there was something called a gift basket. Perhaps he should procure one for Oz.

Yes. This was _just_ what he had needed.


	4. Chapter 4: Happy Little Vegemite

Chapter 4: Happy Little Vegemite

Oz was at home, cooking his dinner (tonight was a chickpea and rice dish with a Moroccan spice mix he'd ordered from online and had mailed to a drop-box in Lhasa) when his satellite phone rang. Oz's eyebrows raised. The Council (re: Giles) tended to call him up every once in a while just to make sure that things were under control in his neck of the woods (or really his plateau of the mountains, but Oz wasn't a pedant), but the latest call had only been about a week ago. He wasn't due for another "are you still alive and are the local beasties under control" call for a good month as far as he was aware. So it was with some trepidation that he answered.

"Yo."

"Oz? That you?" Oh. He recognised that voice, and it wasn't Giles. Huh. Interesting.

"Yep. Hi Buffy," he said, and waited.

"So, how are things?" she asked him. Oz felt his eyebrows raise. Odd, that she was going the small-talk angle. Oz and Buffy had never really conversed much. Sure, they'd spent time in the same vicinity when Oz had been dating Willow, and on the occasional Scooby mission when he'd been around to assist, and Buffy had watched over him a few times when he'd been all furry, but they didn't often actually _talk_. So for Buffy to be ringing him out of the blue like this, and wanting _small-talk_? This was weird.

"Things are happening," Oz said in his customary deadpan. He deliberately left his statement ambiguous so that it could have referred to himself, or the reason for the Slayer's call. "You all alright?" he asked.

"Oh you know, the usual," Oz could almost see the valley girl hair-flip. "Demons, vampires, teenaged girls acting like they're the first ones to discover hormones." Oz snorted.

Since Willow had activated all the Potentials, it sounded like half the Council buildings were filled with teenaged girls. He was honestly half-surprised he hadn't been asked to host any of them yet, but he figured it was only a matter of time. There would eventually be some girl who wanted to try the Himalayas, and if that happened, Powers That Be knew that he would want to at least meet her and give her the lowdown before she went tromping around causing trouble. He had actually met two activated Potentials from the villages, but he'd put them in touch with the Council, and they'd both promptly seized the chance for a British education and had absconded off to London with the full support ad blessings of their families. Last he'd heard, at least one of the girls, Khalama, had found herself a part-time job and was sending money home, much to the delight of her family, who boasted about how wonderful their daughter was to anyone who would stop to listen.

"Fun," Oz stated dryly. "So if it's situation normal, then why are you calling me?"

There was a slight pause, and Oz could hear a slow intake of breath.

"Okay, fine, I'll make with the 'splainy," Buffy sighed. "Easter Island. Whole lot of bug demons dead. Don't suppose you have any idea who or what could have done it?" The way she said it suggested that she didn't really think that Oz would have any answers, but was asking more to cross his name off the list.

Oz was about to say no, when he suddenly had a thought.

"...What sort of injuries did the bug demons have, and how many were dead?" he asked.

"What looked like an entire tribe, and apparently it was a combination of incredible blunt trauma and some kind of... energy burns that seemed to obliterate a decent number of them. Why?"

Ah, Oz thought. That got her attention.

"I don't know for certain," he said, "but it might have been a friend of mine doing a bit of stress relief."

"I'm sorry, could you repeat that," Buffy said in an odd tone, "I could have sworn I just heard you say that there's an entire tribe of apocalypse-seeking bug demons dead because a _friend_ of yours needed some _stress relief_."

Oz shrugged, then remembered that he was on the phone, not skyping, so he expanded with a verbal answer.

"He's got issues."

Oz grinned as he heard the sounds of a gobsmacked Slayer. Sometimes he just loved being the deadpan one. It always caught the babbling ones off guard.

Buffy eventually regained coherence.

"Okay, Wolf-man, talk. Who's your pest exterminator friend?"

Oz leaned back in his chair, and kicked his feet up so they were resting on the table.

"His name is Vegeta, and he says he's the Prince of All Saiyans..."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Is it just me, or is Vegeta being unbelievably creepy lately?" Krillin asked, cracking open a beer.

The Z warriors were gathered, but for once, the event was social, rather than the impending end of the world. It was Gohan's birthday, and this was the "family" party. Much to the chagrin of Krillin and Yamcha, Vegeta being the eldest of the only two pure Saiyans left in the universe counted as family in Goku's books. So he was here, lounging casually against the wall next to the buffet table.

That wasn't unusual behaviour for him. Saiyans with their ridiculous metabolisms and appetites were often found in easy-access range for food if they weren't outright stuffing themselves.

No, the creepy part as far as Krillin and Yamcha were concerned was that he had what looked suspiciously like a genuine smile on his face. Not a glare. Not even a smug smirk. An actual, honest-to-Kami smile was gracing his face as he looked fondly over at Trunks and Goten wrestling. Trunks was winning, which might have provided some explanation for Vegeta's expression if he was anyone else, but Krillin and Yamcha were starting to feel distinctly weirded out.

"Do you think he's gotten laid?" Krillin asked, his tone doubtful.

Yamcha snorted and was about to reply when a louder noise of derision came from directly behind them.

They turned to see Piccolo looking sardonically amused.

"Come now, you both remember when he was with Bulma," the Namekian pointed out with not a little amusement at the cringe this comment provoked in Yamcha. "Did he ever look even _close_ to this relaxed?"

Krillin considered this and started snickering. "True. But they did argue all the time. That probably wouldn't have helped."

"Ugh," Yamcha groaned, raking one hand through his hair. "Do you mind _not_ reminding me that my girlfriend used to have really bad taste in me- I mean, bedpartners?"

"Used to have?" Vegeta suddenly called from the buffet table. "You seriously think that _you_ are an upgrade?" he stated incredulously as he started to walk over.

Yamcha and Krillin paled. Damn Saiyan hearing!

Piccolo just looked even more amused, folding his arms and taking a slight step back to show he wasn't about to interfere.

Vegeta moved closer until he was just within arm's reach of Yamcha, who cringed in front of the much shorter alien.

Vegeta just stood there, hands on his hips, and raised one eyebrow.

Yamcha made an "eep" noise, and skittered away, closely followed by Krillin, who mumbled, "no offense man, I was just talking," before making his exit.

Vegeta made no move to follow, merely staring out at the duo until they'd vanished around the corner.

Then he snickered.

Piccolo stared, flabbergasted, as the snicker quickly turned into a guffaw.

Soon, he wasn't the only one staring as the other party-goers were staring at the usually grumbling stoic Vegeta was indulging in a full belly-laugh.

Goku wandered over, chewing on a chicken drumstick.

"Hey Vegeta! Want to share the joke?" he asked in that genuine cheery fashion that only he seemed able to pull off around Vegeta without sounding strained.

Vegeta's laughter trailed off, but he was still grinning. "Nothing you should worry about Kakarrot. You had to be there."

Goku shot Vegeta a surprisingly shrewd glance, (he had known Vegeta for years, after all,) but he decided to let it drop.

"So what's got you so chipper, Vegeta?" he asked him, slinging an arm around Vegeta's shoulders.

A split-second later, he was picking himself up off the ground from a half-kilometre away. Note to self: Just because Vegeta's in a good mood does not mean that the rules have changed about personal space, Goku thought to himself ruefully as he rubbed his shoulder and brushed grass and twigs off himself.

A few seconds later, he was in front of Vegeta again, looking none the worse for the wear despite his sudden cross-country flight.

"Seriously though," Goku said, cocking his head. "I don't think I've _ever_ seen you looking this..." Goku paused thoughtfully as he tried to decide what word best described Vegeta's expression.

Vegeta's grin developed a hint of familiar smugness, and he ushered Goku out of earshot of the rest of the party. Well, except for perhaps that pointy-eared Namekian, but Vegeta's experience told him that the green slug was unlikely to spread his business around just for kicks.

"I found an invading force to massacre," Vegeta said.

Goku blinked. "A what?" On the one hand this was Vegeta, and so really, this made complete sense. On the other hand, what the HFIL?

"An invading force, Kakarrot. A tribe of beings that wanted nothing more than to destroy all of humanity and to conquer this planet. I got a tip-off, and I found them and killed them until there was none left breathing." Vegeta's satisfaction was practically palpable. "I haven't killed so many in battle since before I came to Earth."

Goku stared at the Prince of All Saiyans (all one and two halves of them). "Ooookay," he said finally. "How come I never heard about this?"

Vegeta shrugged. "It happened on this tiny island in the middle of the Pacific. Had some strange stone heads on it."

"Ah," Goku nodded faux-thoughtfully. "I know that one, I've flown over there a few times... but hang on, so you say there was a bunch of aliens who wanted to invade from there?"

Vegeta shrugged. "My friend calls them 'demons'. Apparently there are many kinds, but ones near Hellmouths are more likely to be... I mean to not have the humans' best interests at heart." Vegeta's grin widened. "And they are entertaining to fight. I actually almost broke a sweat killing them all. You know," Vegeta frowned thoughtfully, "I never realised how much more enjoyable it is fighting when one is doing it because one has something worth protecting. I used to enjoy the battles for Frieza, but the fact that I was fighting on behalf of that reptile freak always left a sour taste in my mouth. Fighting for a worthy cause is far more enjoyable. Especially when it's a chance to show an entire new species how far superior Saiyans are."

Goku carefully hid an eye roll, but his grin echoed Vegeta's.

"So let me get this straight. You're in a good mood because you had a really good fight recently?"

"Correction," Vegeta's grin became slightly feral. "I am in a good mood because I _won_ a good fight recently. I feel better than I have in more than a decade."

"Huh," Goku cocked his head to one side as he considered this. He wondered how much Vegeta's foul mood of the past... well pretty much as long as Goku had known him, if he was honest- had been simply because he could not beat Goku, the only opponent that Vegeta considered "worthy" of their acquaintance.

"It's a shame though," he thought out loud.

"Mmmm?" Vegeta asked.

"Well, I was just thinking it's a shame that there aren't invading armies for you to fight more regularly. You're almost..." Goku hesitated. The next word could spoil what was an incredibly rare mood for his long time rival, occasional friend.

Fortunately, Vegeta seemed to understand what he was getting at before he shoved his foot down his throat.

"It's funny you should mention that," he said, still grinning.

"Oh?" Goku asked, intrigued.

"See, I've been talking to this person I met in Tibet, and he told me..."

From across the clearing, Bulma watched one of her oldest friends talk to her ex, and was startled at the body language she saw. Vegeta actually looked... almost mellow. She hadn't seen him look like that even when they'd been having regular sex. The fact that most of said sex had been fairly angry might have had a little to do with this, but still. And whatever he was talking about, Goku looked more intrigued than he had in ages. She couldn't help but wonder what on earth they were talking about.

So she sidled up to a certain turbanned Namekian, figuring that he would be able to hear whatever it was that the two Saiyans were talking about so animatedly.

"So Piccolo," she said, smiling winsomely at him, "how are you doing today?"

Piccolo looked unimpressed.

"Just ask, woman." Bulma only rarely spoke to him, but when she did, it was because she invariably wanted something. Piccolo had previously debated mentioning to her that attempting to flirt information out of him was not only completely useless, but mildly nauseating. His race reproduced asexually! Human mating rituals were not far removed in Piccolo's mind to a dog humping his leg.

Unaware of this train of thoughts, Bulma pouted in a fashion she thought was cute, and said, "I was just wondering what could be so very fascinating to Vegeta and Goku. I know you can hear what they're talking about."

Piccolo considered simply telling Bulma to get lost, but then had a much more fun idea.

"Vegeta has met someone new. That's why he's so happy."

"W-what?!" Bulma looked entirely shell-shocked.

"Oh yes," Piccolo nodded sagely. "Apparently this new person understands Vegeta's needs so he is happier than he's been since before he came to Earth."

Bulma gaped at him, then excused herself faintly before walking off, pale-faced.

Serves her right, Piccolo thought to himself. If she wanted to know so badly what they were talking about, then she should have just asked them herself rather than cowardly using him as some sort of gossip medium. Maybe next time she would hesitate before demanding he eavesdrop on private conversations for her.

Piccolo repressed a grin. Whatever happened next, that had been _so_ worth it.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It was a few days after Buffy's call that Oz was relaxing on his favourite boulder. He had been meditating before, but now he was sitting eating his lunch. He hadn't seen Vegeta for a while, and so when he suddenly felt a presence behind himself, he wasn't entirely surprised.

"Yo," he said in greeting, looking over his shoulder.

To his surprise, the person he was greeting was not Vegeta.

"Hi!" the man said brightly. Everything, Oz contemplated, about the man was bright. Bright way of speaking, bright eyes, and bright orange clothing. Oz wondered who this guy could be, and then considered the way his black hair seemed to stand up almost on end and had a thought.

"You wouldn't happen to be Kakarrot by any chance?" Oz asked.

The expression on the newcomer's face was a little surprised, and more than a bit delighted.

"I prefer Goku really, but wow! You mean Vegeta has talked about me?"

Oz smiled slightly. "You could say that." Actually, it was a pretty rare conversation that Oz had with Vegeta wherein Kakarrot did not feature at some point or another. Vegeta was apparently fairly annoyed with him about the whole being able to defeat him thing, and would occasionally wax lyrical about it. Otherwise, Kakarrot would inevitably come up when Vegeta wanted to disparage something- if Kakarrot liked it, Vegeta had a tendency to assume it was what he termed "low class". Privately, Oz was a little too entertained by his bitching to call him on the fact that he seemed to know Kakarrot's opinion about almost everything, which would normally be odd if one thought another's opinions weren't worth anything.

But Oz had more than a few suspicions about what Vegeta really felt about the other last Saiyan, and the fact that Vegeta had apparently mentioned Oz himself to Kakarrot confirmed that if nothing else, Vegeta was more than happy to share personal details with "that idiot Kakarrot". You don't share personal details with people you hate.

Kakarrot was beaming like his birthday had come early. "Oh wow! That's kinda awesome. I used to think he hated me, you know? But he seems to have come around a fair bit. He was even smiling at me the other day at Gohan's party!" Huh, apparently Kakarrot was on the same wavelength as he was. Funny. "He's never been so happy! I mean, he was pretty bummed just after Bulma dumped him, but he seems to have really cheered up a whole lot since then. Say," he scratched his chin thoughtfully, "that would have been about when he first met you!"

At the back of his mind, Oz wondered if somehow by some unlikely circumstance, Kakarrot was related to Willow. Insight hidden behind seemingly mindless babble wasn't something that Oz had run across in many other people.

Oz shrugged. "I wouldn't know," he demurred.

He was about to ask Kakarrot why exactly he had tracked him down, when he heard a whooshing sound. He turned to see that Vegeta had just flown in.

"Hey Vegeta!" Kakarrot greeted cheerfully. "We were just talking about you."

Oz grimaced a little at how that sounded, but Vegeta was well versed with the ways of Kakarrot.

"If I know Oz at all, I would have to assume that you were the one talking, whilst he was listening with an expression you couldn't read."

Kakarrot laughed a little awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. "Heh. Well... you could say that?"

Oz smirked. "Hi Vegeta."

Vegeta jerked his head in acknowledgement, before turning to Kakarrot. "What the HFIL are you doing here?"

Kakarrot practically pouted. "But Vegeta! I wanted to meet the guy you said knew about where to find the aliens to fight!"

Oz raised an eyebrow as Vegeta rolled his eyes.

"So," Oz said. "It _was_ you that took out the bug demons on Easter Island."

Vegeta's immediate smug smirk answered _that_ more definitively than any mere "yes" could.

Oz snorted and shook his head. "You know, you freaked the hell out of the ICW."

"ICW?" Kakarrot asked.

"International Watchers Council," Oz said. "They're the ones normally in charge of keeping the things that go bump in the night under control."

Vegeta nodded casually. "What, do they think I stole their kill?"

Oz laughed outright at that. "Kill-stealing isn't something that bothers them, so much as players they don't know. That said, since I vouched for you, there are several fans of your work." Oz smirked. "Some of their researchers figured out that it was you and you," he said, nodding to Kakarrot, "at the Cell Games, and from what I hear the video-link is being passed around faster than Super Sexy Make-up Tips Online amongst the Slayerettes."

"Slayerettes?" Kakarrot asked.

Oz shrugged. "Bunch of teenaged girls who received the powers of the Slayer- that is, enhanced speed, strength and general ability to turn vampires into dust and demons into corpses- when a certain witch I know decided to activate their Potential."

Kakarrot looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Teenaged girls? I've got a teenaged son. And a wife. Liiiitle awkward."

Vegeta just rolled his eyes again. "I've endured the attentions of people impressed by my Princehood before. Just because they scream for your approval and attention doesn't mean you need to even seriously acknowledge them. A mere nod in their direction can be enough to make their day, but you don't owe them anything," he sniffed disdainfully.

Oz and Kakarrot just stared at him.

"What?" Vegeta demanded.

Oz just shook his head. He had more pressing things to worry about than the fact that Vegeta was apparently used to (and scornful of) having hordes of screaming fangirls.

"Anyway," Oz said, "The Slayer wants to meet you."

"Ah yes," Vegeta said slowly. "I remember you telling me of her prowess in battle."

"Battle?" Kakarrot asked blankly.

Oz gave Kakarrot the cliff notes version of what the Slayer was, and Vegeta considered.

If he was honest with himself, he had been intrigued by what Oz had mentioned about the Slayer... Buffy, that's what her name was. A woman with a kill-count like that, a human woman, now that was a person that Vegeta might find worth talking to.

He interrupted whatever Oz was telling Kakarrot about.

"Oz. I will speak with the Slayer." He pulled out a business card. "This is my number."

Kakarrot goggled. "You have a _phone_?"

Vegeta grunted. "What of it?"

"You never gave _me_ your number!"

"Who said I wanted to talk to you?"

Oz repressed a smile at their bickering, but decided to cut across it before Vegeta did as he was threatening and decked Kakarrot into the next mountain range. "I'll figure out what continent Buffy is on, and I'll let you know how to contact her," he said.

Vegeta nodded. "I'll see you soon," he said, and then flew off.

Kakarrot sighed.

Oz turned to him, surprised.

"I'm glad he's found someone he can talk to," Kakarrot said in tones that were far more serious-sounding than anything Oz had heard from him so far. "I've probably been the closest thing he's had to a friend while he's been on Earth, but he doesn't talk to me, you know? I mean, we're sparring buddies, and most of the time I feel like we've got respect between us, but the guy you try your hardest to beat into the dirt isn't exactly the guy you tell your problems to, you know?" Oz just nodded, and Kakarrot continued to babble. "Even though the rivalry's mostly friendly now, and our sons are totally best buddies," suddenly a thought appeared to occur to him. "Hey! Vegeta just left then! Dang, I wanted to ask him something, so nice to meet you, see you sometime later, bye!"

Kakarrot raised his finger to his forehead, and then disappeared in a flash of light.

Oz blinked.

Teleportation. Somehow he had not been expecting teleportation.

Shrugging, he got up from his rock. He had some phone calls to make.

...

_A/N: Hey guys, I'm not dead. And neither are my stories. See? Update :P _

_Next episode will be Vegeta and Buffy meeting for the first time. Stay Tuned!_


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